Friends and Strangers
by Ridney
Summary: A collection of one-shots, both light and dark. First -- Anne and Viral have known each other for a while, but never quite like this... Then in the next installment, Viral gets by with a little help from his enemy.
1. An Officer and a Gentlebeastman

AN: Hi everyone; this is a collection of Kink Meme fills -- or at least the few I can post -- and will feature a lot of Viral, but who knows? Otherwise characters and content will be all over the place. Enjoy!

xxxxxx

First is a budding romance involving saucy!Anne and old-fashioned, professional!Viral aboard the Chouginga. I'm about to get _Harlequin_ on your ass.

Rated PG-13

* * *

Anne threw back her covers in defeat. She sat up in the darkness and raked her fingers through thick blonde curls. Three hours of tossing and turning, and she was more agitated than ever. Fine – if her brain refused to shut off for sleep then she wasn't going to fight it any longer. She groped through the hamper for a pair of lounge pants. Anne was halfway out the door when she decided to toss a flimsy kimono-style wrap over her tee shirt; the ship was cool during the night settings, and she was very obviously not wearing a bra.

The cabin door dilated without a sound and she padded into the dim hallway, suitably covered in case any drunken Grapearl trainees were still prowling. Anne would be well within her rights to demerit public disorder at this time of night, but she knew a gang of rowdy flyboys tended to forget seniority when a pair of breasts were around, especially if the breasts were attached to a pretty young woman alone on the deck.

Anne sneered; she did _not_ have the patience for that now. Luckily ship discipline had been cracking down on that kind of behavior, so she likely wouldn't meet anyone on her walk aside from cleaning bots or a few officers burning the midnight oil.

Well, maybe just one officer. Anne was grateful no one was there to see her blush. If she were honest with herself, she'd admit it was that one officer who was making her so restless, and her decision to go for a walk might have something to do with his habit of patrolling the ship at night. He rarely slept. Anne pulled the silky top around her and smiled ruefully. At least they had something in common.

xxxxxx

She had seen beastmen before, of course, and for the early part of her life Viral had been like a distant but doting uncle: the vague memory of a friend of a friend of the family. Yet even then she knew this beastman was special, that Viral visiting _her_ house was a source of envy. None of her classmates could boast of having the most important and prestigious member of Genome's cloned army give them personal horsey rides. And he'd been on television, though that hadn't meant as much to Anne. A lot of mommy's and daddy's friends were in the news.

Even back then she'd been an outspoken, outgoing little girl. Her mother said she took after her uncle, but Anne thought she took after all the Black Siblings, really – even quiet Aunt Kinon wasn't so demure she wouldn't strap a few bombs to herself. So no one had been surprised when Anne entered the space academy after graduating from school.

She'd been in training for several months before she came across the once-familiar face of her highest commander. They hadn't met in years, and Anne had all but pushed him to the back of her mind. He'd seemed surprised to see her at first, and in truth Anne was a little surprised herself. She knew on a logical level that Viral hadn't shown signs of growing old and he likely never would, but it was still jarring that they now appeared to be the same age. He didn't offer any special treatment – not that Anne would have expected any – but neither did he pretend they were strangers, and whenever they met he was sure to inquire about her assignments or family. It wasn't much, but those moments made her as proud as when he used to carry her on his shoulders.

They came in contact more often as her training progressed, and Anne had the opportunity to observe his leadership firsthand. She liked to be pleasantly surprised, and while she was learning most of her officers were far from perfect – including the unfortunate truth that some officials had been promoted beyond their ability due to a connection with Simon – it became clear to Anne that Viral did everything to earn his position.

To some he was too focused, too strict and aloof. She always rolled her eyes at their comments; they didn't know him like _she_ did. Anne had seen the feral gleam in his eye at the prospect of battle. She had also had seen his more gentle side. He was fair nearly to a fault, and on a few occasions had shown moments of real kindness that would be rare to find in anyone, much less the over-serious Viral. Anne locked those moments away in her chest, returning to them when her workday had been especially frustrating.

The better she knew him, the more she was proud of him – not to be connected to someone famous, but proud to serve with him. This was how she imagined the flagship when she joined as an idealistic recruit. She wanted to earn his respect back, both from Viral the leader and from just _Viral_, who had shown he demanded a quality and decency from himself that were unrelated to his job. And he --

She flushed again. It was hard to say when he had gone from fond memory to friend to something more. He confused her. Anne tried to puzzle out if it was his shorter hair, the new uniform, or something else that was beginning to make her clumsy and stupid in his presence. But she finally had to accept that it wasn't Viral who had changed. She had. She wasn't a child any longer. Anne wanted the things a woman wanted.

For a while she tried to suppress the way her heart fluttered around him, but those feelings were much harder to ignore once the dreams began. What began as a few tame fantasies – Viral congratulating her, holding her hand, telling her how he'd always really felt – swiftly grew more carnal. She would awake from her night time encounters breathless and overheated, and knowing they were totally inappropriate. He wouldn't see her as anything but a girl, not then.

So she kept her head down and worked her way to full pilot status, focused on inter-planetary diplomacy, she got a job on the Chouginga Dai-Gurren, and she stalked the hallways after dark, all to …what? To mumble and trip over herself when she saw Viral, to ramble sleeplessly when she didn't? Anne bit her lip. Damn, maybe she was just a child.

xxxxxx

She wandered as she thought, but after so many restless nights her legs could carry her by habit. Anne walked down a well-known path, following a hallway that funneled into the main bridge.

This was the showpiece of the Chouginga. Utilitarian walls of burnished steel opened wider, and one side was replaced by a massive sheet of glass three stories high and a hundred feet long. It was more than a window: the grand hallway looked out into space. The ship's florescent bulbs that provided the artificial cycle of day and night were absent here – the only illumination was the light of a hundred million suns.

Anne faced the abyss and pressed her hand against the cool wall. She liked to come here when she was troubled. An unbroken view of the universe never failed to make her problems feel small, to make _her_ feel small. She sighed and let her mind focus on the distance. Each tiny speck her eyes rested on was a fiery giant, light over a thousand years old from impossibly far away. When she was a little girl she'd liked to peer as hard as she could at the spaces between the stars. It was like looking at forever.

A polite cough startled Anne from her thoughts. Perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised; this was what she was hoping for, wasn't it? She knew it was him even before straightening herself and turning away from the glass.

Viral tread noiselessly across the tile. The starlight had drained the color from him, changing his blue uniform to black and bleaching his skin and hair a ghostly white, so that his face seemed to hover like a moon. The stark contrast suited him, Anne thought, and she wondered if she looked to same to him, or if Viral's cat-slitted pupils – now almost perfectly round – saw the darkness in ways she couldn't imagine.

"You're up rather late, Miss Littner." He stopped a few feet away and folded his oversized hands behind him.

"Yes, sir. I haven't been sleeping well lately. I like to come here to think."

Viral nodded and didn't press her for explanations. "I'm the same way." He turned to face the glass as if to prove his point. "It's good for a quiet moment no matter how busy the ship gets elsewhere." Anne loved it when he spoke quietly, especially in the moments when he shared a private word with her. The usually military harshness dripped away from his voice and it was low, soothing. But now he seemed content to stand with her in silence and enjoy the view.

Anne admired the view as well, cutting her eyes to the side to study his profile. It might have been easier to ignore the attraction if he'd been a bit less youthful and more like her other officers. He _would_ have to be handsome, damn him. If he'd been less graceful with his long limbs and wide shoulders that tapered to a slender waist – too wild to be delicate, too slender to be brutish. Blood rushed from her head as she followed the curve of his spine.

Viral, oblivious, gazed through the window, and Anne wished for the courage to say anything that would keep this from becoming yet another missed chance. She couldn't have asked for a better opportunity. They were here, alone, what could go wrong? Well, a lot of things could go wrong, but as Anne took another glance at the endless spread of space, all those potential mistakes and backfires suddenly seemed rather insignificant.

"You can call me Anne," she whispered. "Now that we aren't on duty. I'd like it if you called me Anne, sir."

"Well, then you don't need to call me 'sir,' Miss … Anne." Sharp teeth flashed, far from the snarl his underlings were used to seeing. She smiled back at him.

"Viral. I'm glad we ran into each other tonight. I-I'd been hoping to speak with you again." Viral turned to give her full attention, inclining his head politely. She shrank a bit under his scrutiny, but it was too late to go back. "It's just, you've been such a good friend to me since I enrolled. I don't think I ever properly thanked you, or told you how much it means to me. How much I've come to respect you."

Viral's grin faltered. He'd probably expected the formal conversation they usually shared, and it was obvious he wasn't used to talking about _feelings_, at least not positive ones. "You're welcome. I am also thankful we had the chance to become more familiar. I've enjoyed watching you grow into a model diplomat. You've come a long way professionally, but," his smile lifted again, "I also enjoy our time together outside of work. Like now."

"That's what I hoped. I want you to think of me like this," she gestured to herself, ignoring the pajamas, "because even though you knew me when I was younger, _this_ is how I've come to know you. I'd like to think we can meet in the middle now, as two adults." Anne could kick herself for her awkwardness. She kept returning to the stiff, 'ambassador' voice out of habit, and it was only maintaining the barrier between them. Why couldn't she come out and say what she meant? "What do you think of relationships between personnel?" Okay. That was blunt.

"Ah. The truth comes out," Viral arched his brows. "This is why you're up at such an hour." Anne stared at her feet, confirming his suspicions. She was worried about a young man. Something lurched in his gut, and for a moment he had the urge to lie in his answer. But that was ridiculous. "There is no policy forbidding it. There are several married couples aboard. I only ask that parties involved use good judgment and don't do anything that might damage … that might negatively impact their duties." He looked away. The reassuring smile he'd attempted failed.

Anne shortened the distance between them. "And … have you ever been involved with a woman on the job?"

He started at the voice that was suddenly much closer. "Involved? No, I have never been- no. Most of the time I'm too busy with work to even consider that. There's always something else that needs attention first, and then something else, and so on." Viral paused thoughtfully. "I guess most of my coworkers can tell," –_You don't know the half of it_, thought Anne– "because I can't remember ever being approached on the matter."

_Then would you know if it was happening now?_ "I see." She could feel the warmth emanating from him. Anne tilted her head back to look him in the face. He had seemed impossibly tall when she was a girl. He was still tall. In the half-darkness his features were softened, his razor teeth hidden; he could have been like any other man. Then a passing star reflected in his eye with a flash of cold yellow-green, like the chemical glow from a sodium lamp.

Anne waited to feel a shiver of revulsion at the inhuman shine. She waited snap out of it, to come to her senses, but her first thought was of opals and her heart only beat faster.

She steeled herself. _Grow a pair of ovaries, girl. _"Well, what about me?"

Viral made no response. He stared down at her so blankly that for a moment Anne thought she only imagined asking her question aloud, and he was still waiting. "You," he said at last. His visible eye blinked several times.

_Oh no oh please oh no…_ she pleaded silently.

"I, I -during our friendship, you should know... I wasn't using my rank to pursue an ulterior motive, that is to say, I don't mean to take advantage… dammit." He sputtered to a stop, unsure how to continue. Viral's confident stance narrowed as he began to shift his weight nervously from foot to foot. He dropped his hands to his sides, and then plucked at the collar of his uniform.

Anne watched in astonishment as burning spots bloomed on his cheeks. Until now she'd had a very clear image of Viral: pale, sharp features, carelessly disarrayed hair – so blond it was nearly white – the lacquered-on frown and the chilly, disinterested cat's eye. He'd been the very picture of reserve. She'd seen the attitude a hundred times in other retired military officers, and she'd always taken it for granted. It was crumbling before her eyes, revealing the fluster and poorly-hidden shyness of a much younger man. At last, something she knew how to handle.

"You couldn't like me that way, or you don't think I'm pretty? You can be honest." She lowered her lashes and let the kimono top drift loose. Anne wasn't shy about using her generous assets.

"No! You're very pretty, a –ah– lovely young lady! And very talented!" Viral fidgeted some more. "But I don't want you to think it was my secret intention to lure you into such a relationship. A romantic relationship." He must have been a bright crimson under better light.

Anne raised a hand to her mouth when she could no longer hide her smile. She had never expected him to be so … normal. Cute, even. Serious, regal, severe, yes. But _cute_? Watching him struggle through his own embarrassment strengthened her resolve. This was fun.

"Those _are_ my intentions." She watched him redden further, "Do you object, sir?"

Viral swallowed. "No, Miss Littner."

"Excellent." Anne took one of his long fingers, and he opened his hand to her. Her hand barely covered his palm. Viral watched for her cues, but he began to relax as she stroked across the rough lines of his skin. She felt the tension between them change from anxiety to something more physical. It seemed she would have to take the initiative at first, but Anne found she didn't mind the surprising turn of events. Actually, she looked forward to exploring this amusing new side of her captain.

Anne twined her arm around his, leaning her head against his shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of Viral's breath. He was so close she could take in his scent: crisp soap and something more exotic beneath. She might have been imagining the animal flavor – for all Anne knew this was how all men smelled. She searched her memory for the handful of fumbling encounters in flight school, but those boys hardly qualified. She'd already forgotten them.

A tentative hand rested on her waist, and she felt his chin press against her hair. God, he was warm. Before she could stop it, a particularly dirty dream-image flashed across her mind. This was really not the time. She already had him in her arms; wasn't that enough? Her subconscious jumping to _that_ in the same minute seemed like overkill, although 'that' was quite nice, and so was … oh, good grief. The captain would probably have a heart attack if she tried anything naughty this soon, but there was something else she'd been dreaming of ...

Viral tensed as she turned to face him. He must have picked up something in her body language. Surely he heard the hammering of her pulse -- Anne could hear little else. Her breath hitched and her mouth went dry. She didn't envy guys who had to make the first move.

Before her courage could desert her, she leaned forward and thought, _this is going to ruin our working relationship_.

Her lips pressed against his in a quick peck, and she felt seventeen again, like the girl he thought she was. Anne flushed. That was not how she had imagined their first kiss.

The beastman was still frozen in surprise, but before he could stumble out of reach Anne grabbed his shoulders and kissed him like the woman she _knew_ she was. There was a warm exhalation on her cheek and wide, long-fingered hands squeezed her hips, pulling her forward. Much better.

She teased his mouth open, her fingers tangled in his hair. When her tongue swept over his teeth, she discovered that apart from feeling a little different, they didn't change her technique. Viral's grip drifted down to cup her backside, and his boldness earned an appreciative sigh from Anne. Her thin pajama top pressed against his chest as she embraced him. She could count the ribs rising in time with his breath, feel the muscles shifting along his sides and back. That was the last clear thought she had for a while.

Her world faded into sensation: fluttering hands, mouths, bodies. She found herself pressed between Viral and the clear barrier that shielded them from the black. For a moment Anne barely registered the wall, and she was tumbling, tumbling through space. She didn't care. Anne had the hard planes of his torso to secure her; her fists dug into his shoulder blades and nothing bad could reach her. Claws raked down her thighs and back, pressing just enough to tickle through her clothes. She shuddered as an insistent heat flared to life between her legs.

Anne surfaced for air with a gasp. That had been intense, almost too much. Any farther and she'd be past the point of no return, and Anne wasn't sure she wanted to end up on the floor a mere half hour after her confession. There would be plenty of time for that.

She grinned up at Viral and panted, "Sure you weren't planning this all along? You're a natural."

"Or maybe just a quick study." _He tells jokes now? I've created a monster._

"Either way, I probably ought to be heading back home soon. We can't have people saying I took advantage of my poor, helpless captain."

Viral tilted his head. "We can't?" His hair was even more unruly than normal, and a faint blush lingered across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. It looked fetching on him; she'd have to encourage it often as possible. Anne flung her arms around him and delivered a kiss that had him rumbling deep in his throat. She growled back. He chuckled before pulling away to nuzzle along her jaw.

"Hmm… maybe tomorrow." Anne smirked and ran her fingers through his bangs. Viral leaned into her touch like a housepet. While she pet him, he straightened the silky top that had half-fallen off her, and his claws came to rest in her curls.

"Until then, sleep well Miss Littner," Viral murmured into her palm.

"I think I will." She caught him by the chin and pulled his not-so-dangerous mouth down to hers, "and it's 'Anne'."

"Anne." He smiled against her lips, then gave her ear a farewell nip. "Good night."

She pulled away reluctantly and headed back toward her personal quarters. Before she left the great hall, Anne turned to take a final look at his angular silhouette. She probably still wouldn't get much sleep tonight, but she didn't doubt that the morning would be much brighter than usual.

xxxxxx

He watched her disappear into the darkness, but savored one last glance at the gently curving figure he previously hadn't allowed himself to notice. Viral sighed. In the last hour he'd completely forgotten whatever he planned on doing the rest of the night. There was too much to think about to think of anything at all, so he let his feet carry him aimlessly around the ship, his mind elsewhere.

Viral didn't know how long he walked, but he finally found himself on the captain's perch high above the bridge. The controls below were dark aside for the blinking of a few automated functions, and even the most enthusiastic officers wouldn't arrive for another few hours. Maybe by then he'd have regained some feeling of normality, but at the moment he wasn't sure if he wanted to feel normal, or if he should.

Viral leaned back in his chair. He had a full view of the bridge and beyond. Ahead of him, deep in space, rainbow nebulae spun in the light of a hundred million suns – incredibly beautiful and absolutely silent.


	2. Away

First the sweet, now the sour. The following is based on a H/C prompt featuring Viral and Simon. Angst and violence ahead, and possibly redemption.

WARNING: It's set in prison, which can be a very dark place where very bad things happen. Nothing is described in explicit detail, but it's still unpleasant. Every traumatic event has its fallout. Sometimes everybody needs help. Rated R for language and content.

* * *

Viral wrung out his damp hair. He liked to bathe in the early morning when he could manage. Most of the other inmates would be filing in later, but in the steamy, predawn darkness the showers were blessedly empty. They reminded him of a burrow in the quiet; if he ignored the tang of antiseptic and moldy drains, the shadowy, low ceilings were almost comforting, and the chill only made the hot water more enjoyable. He shook his head to fling off the last droplets, and considered how he hadn't bathed with such regularity for years – it had taken prison to get him decently clean. His diet had also improved during his incarceration, but that wasn't saying much.

Trial. Prison. Curious human inventions. Under the King's rule he would have simply been beaten or killed – there was no use wasting space and food on a confined soldier – and at first he thought this was a laughable punishment.

Then came the crushing boredom, the long hours of nothing punctuated by sudden violence. And worst of all were the other inmates. A few prisoners were like him: veterans locked away for crossing the new government one too many times, but the rest were thieves, murderers, rapists, and looters: in Viral's mind, the true inmates. The scum. They had no discipline, no respect, and he was stuck in here with them. He was exhausted by the racial bickering and endless power struggles their world revolved around, but he was outnumbered. In the end all he could do was bristle and return bared fangs, keep his head down when he could. It was too crowded, too loud, and Viral rarely had any privacy, yet even in exile he hadn't felt this alone.

Sighing, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed toward the sinks. At least there was the luxury of a personal toothbrush, he admitted while uncapping the paste. Steam fogged the rows of polished metal that served as mirrors – glass could be shattered into weapons – but Viral still sensed motion behind him reflected in their blurry surface.

He turned just as the doorway was filled by another beastman. Completely filled – he was massive. The stranger tilted his head to adjust for curved horns that threatened to scrape the door frame in his passage. The closeness of the room became oppressive, as if the walls had contracted.

Viral's lip curled around his toothbrush. Week-old desert rations, filth, even an empty stomach was better than the sour taste Kantos brought to his mouth. Viral knew him by name and reputation for his arrogance. He was the worst sort of bully. Other gang leaders were bothersome, but at the end of the day they were interested in business. Kantos was interested in playing. He liked to put on a show, always smiling ruefully while he beat his victims, as if extortions were a tiresome but necessary inconvenience. Only his size let him get away with the stupid act. His fake-jovial attitude unnerved the other prisoners, especially the humans, but to Viral he was pathetically transparent, something Cytomander would have eaten alive.

Even now he was beaming at Viral and seemed delighted to find him there, yet from the looks of the grungy underlings skulking by the wall, Viral had difficulty believing they were here from a sudden shared interest in hygiene. The rabble was an unlikely mix of humans and beastmen, but Viral thought he recognized a few of them. They looked nervous; Kantos didn't.

The tall beastman swaggered forward and pretended to survey the row of showers. "Viral, I was just thinking of you. I was thinking we needed to talk, and here you are!" he grinned. "Are you happy to see me?"

Viral hitched a shoulder. It was the only acknowledgment he gave that someone else was in the room. He was known throughout the prison as a loner, but one who could hold his own. It was also known that he had previously held a high rank, and everyone – human and beastman alike – loved to see a fall. His unwillingness to either affiliate with a gang or pay tribute had always felt like a personal insult to Kantos; the beastman rarely missed an opportunity to try intimidating him. Viral wouldn't be goaded into a confrontation, but he did grip the sink with his free hand, visibly flexing his claws for the audience. A young gangmemeber backpedaled half a step.

"I know you like to come here in the morning." Kantos had paced to the opposite wall and circuited back. "But it's so empty this time of day, I'd get lonely..." He flicked his towel off and let it soak on the floor. Wearing nothing but an insolent smirk, he stood behind Viral so his body couldn't fail to reflect in the mirror, especially what lay half-erect against his thigh. "Do you get lonely? Don't be shy. We're all friends here."

Viral fought the urge to avert his eyes. He stared grimly ahead and continued to brush. Whatever reaction Kantos and his gang were waiting for, they wouldn't find it here.

When he spat into the sink he took the opportunity to lower his face, allowing his peripheral vision to spread out behind him. A ring of subordinates had crept forward until he was surrounded. The steam-thick air was loaded with anxiety and testosterone that he could practically taste. His heart quickened, and when a wide palm slapped down on his shoulder he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"You should be tired of playing coy, Viral." The splayed, hoof-tipped fingers spread all the way to his throat. Viral was more appalled by the contact than the words. Verbal abuse was part of life, but to lay hands on another beastman so casually... he couldn't let this insult go unanswered. There would have to be a fight.

"Fuck off," he snarled, shrugging out of the larger beastman's grasp. Kantos chuckled and – to his surprise – let him go. Viral was wondering how to diffuse the situation and salvage the rest of his morning when the hands re-settled dangerously low on his naked hips. He froze, too shocked to react.

A tongue flicked against his ear, "Was that a request, _officer?_"

Viral's jaw tightened, and he prepared to spin around claws-first. As if reading his mind Kantos jerked him roughly backwards and slammed Viral to his chest. It stalled Viral's attack and knocked out his wind, and in the wasted split-second a massive arm wrapped around him, trapping both limbs in a parody of an embrace. The other beastman was so tall his crotch pressed like a firebrand against Viral's spine, and the blond shuddered at the loathsome touch on his skin.

He fought, slammed his head backwards only to strike unresisting muscle; his weight was lifted up so his toes grazed the floor – _shit, Kantos is strong_ – and he couldn't even find purchase for a solid kick. Shouting wordlessly, Viral flexed his entire body with all the strength he had. He heard his captor curse, but the struggle only lasted a few seconds before he was hurtling down toward the metal sink.

He had time to turn his face away from a direct impact, but not time to prevent the edge from smashing into the orbit of one eye. His thoughts disordered and his vision flashed red-stained-white. It was enough to stun, and he fell limp, temporarily blinded, as the others swarmed over him. Too many expensive mistakes.

Fists knotted in his hair. He lashed out with a foot and was rewarded with a yelp followed by a knee to his stomach, but Viral wasn't finished. He writhed, snapped his jaws wildly, and put his weight behind erratic lunges that he hoped might surprise the attackers enough to let him break free. But his efforts were muted by too many hands, and the pair that wrapped around his wrists belonged to one of the biggest humans he'd ever seen – even wider than Kantos and almost as tall. That he could even hold Viral's broad forearms was a testament to his size. The beastman strained and contorted without success. His senses were clogged by the acrid reek of rage, lust, then someone snatched away the towel he was wearing.

This was no fight. The huge man clutching his arms had discarded his own towel as well, and Viral turned his face away from what was exposed. They were all naked and all hard. Realization dawned on him with sickening clarity as they pulled him forward. The bull kept one hand on Viral's waist, the other pressed his shoulder blades down until he was bent over like a whore. Until he was bowing to them. This wasn't possible.

Viral twisted his head around, eyes watering in irritation and useless rage. He summoned the voice of every superior he'd ever had, every appeal to decency, all of his pride in years of honest soldiering, and the disgust reserved for beastmen who had become merely beasts.

"You will _not_," he commanded. Kantos smiled.

xxxxxx

He couldn't stop it, so he went away.

Pain was only a sensation. They hurt him, but he'd been hurt worse and that was before he received the gift. He tore and bled, but never for long. His cells beat uselessly at the claws buried in his hips, his wrists, until the skin was purple and swollen – only a temporary bruise. Mysterious pressure closed around his throat. His breath stopped. Sounds and images stuttered together, and for a while his world went dark. Viral wilted in their grasp, but to his dismay came wheezing back to consciousness.

It got harder to concentrate when they were inside him. Faceless strangers helped themselves to his body, and he made himself lose track of how many. He had to go very far to escape the sudden, intimate hurting. / All the way back to the day he'd been admitted to the Eastern Army, when he was a stupid kid with big plans and very few scars. East was the sector he would have picked if choice was possible, a chance he barely dared to hope for in his heart, much less aloud. The day before assignment he'd rewashed and brushed his uniform, restitched buttons, done the thousand inconsequential things that seemed so important at the time. Viral had been too excited to sleep after receiving the news, and he'd kept the little card printed with his name and new rank until it had been destroyed along with Enkidu.

At some point they discovered his gift, and after that it became a game. There was a contest to see whose bite mark lasted the longest. Viral was aware of dull crunching in his sides and in the delicate bones of his feet. Healing, crushing again. Blood in his mouth and frothing around his lips, whose? The taste of bile. / He always thought he'd wanted to be a ganman fighter, but after his first ride with Enki, Viral knew. He would never forget the day it hummed to life around him, rising as smoothly as a extension of his own limbs. Beastman and machine combined into a being more perfect than its single components. Together they operated a level beyond intuition, and he realized he hadn't been truly awake until that moment, or known what freedom really felt like.

Animal grunting. The rude tempo of flesh on flesh. Thick fingers groped between his thighs and Viral clenched his teeth to stay silent. Something was shaking apart deep in his center. Little earthquakes were breaking him down. / He remembered taking Enki on a long scout deep into the wasteland. On the second morning, the moon was still faint in the sky when the eastern horizon blushed pink. The air was crisp, pristine, quiet enough to hear his own heartbeat, and he shivered as the dawn spread warmth across the cool of his face. He inhaled and absorbed the stillness; everything was wonderful.

The sun would be rising again right now, and it would be just as beautiful as he remembered in spite of this place and what was happening to him. He went away inside so they could only hurt his body, until Viral was curled on the filthy bathroom floor, and nothing was left but their fluids and the stink of them.

He hadn't expected his own scent to be among them _(shivering release in the dawn)_ with evidence across his belly that he had come during the frenzy. Something in his chest shriveled. _("It was good for him, too," laughter)_

That disappointed him.

Their smell took the longest to wash away. He thought he might vomit, but he didn't. The showers were full by the time Viral left, and the water ran cold. Pain was only a sensation. He had been beaten before, it was nothing important, and now the marks had vanished. He wasn't damaged.

xxxxxx

The morning had been unpleasant and Viral was determined to put it behind him. He performed his assigned tasks efficiently and was done earlier than usual. Then he stretched out on the cot in his cell and had no memory until he woke the next morning, sluggish from a dead sleep that left his body feeling heavy. He dragged himself to a sink. Cold water on his face had little effect, and he didn't see any need for a hot shower; otherwise the rest of his day was carefully, meticulously normal, and the next day was exactly the same. On the third day the head of his cell block cornered Viral and hosed him down, still clothed, until the strength of the water forced him against a wall. After that he washed himself, always when the baths were most crowded.

The problem with going away is that it was so hard to come back. Viral slept often, or tried. His food was bland and tasteless, but he found he was rarely hungry anyway. He had little interest in his surroundings, and his already distant attitude chilled until he became all but invisible. He seemed to live at end of a long passage while his fellow prisoners went about their business just out of reach. Even color was dull.

It was better this way, because when he was gone he didn't have to care about the leers and pointed silences that followed him in public, the knowing looks, whispers that advertised how everyone knew. He didn't have to pay attention when Simon tried to sit beside him at mess hall. Viral left his untouched tray on the table and vanished into the crowd.

He was holding himself that afternoon, arms crossed, half-hugging, when he tightened his fist in an experimental squeeze. Viral watched with detatchment as his claws sank into the bicep. Blood welled up around his fingers, bright red in a world of gray. Yes, that's how it was. He withdrew his claws and the wounds closed almost too quickly to see, but the undersides of his nails were still crimson as proof of what he'd done.

x

Viral was well-behaved enough to have a job in the laundry department, otherwise he might have spent most of the day staring at the ceiling in his cell. He was grateful for a task to keep him occupied, anything to distract his mind from wandering into dark corners. He was very carefully thinking of nothing as he steered an industrial-size trolley full of bedding. It was a long trip to the washers. One of the left wheels squeaked, and he had to keep wrestling with the heavy load to keep it straight; maybe that was why he didn't notice Kantos stalk up behind him.

The other beastman wasted no time in the lonely corridor. He stroked Viral, murmuring like they were lovers. Viral himself didn't comprehend any of this awkward seduction. All he could think of was the hand that had closed over his clavicle, and the other that went between his legs. He couldn't move, not even to cover himself. It had been nearly a week since they met in the showers, but for Viral it felt like the same day. He gripped the cart handle – or was it the sink? – and stared dumbly at the pile of laundry as Kantos pushed hair away from his nape. Thick lips sucked on the back of his neck.

Kantos was already exploring under Viral's shirt before a guard chased him away. For a moment the blond beastman stood where he'd been left, exactly as he was before being groped, then continued pushing the trolley to the linens room.

There were still rusty smears of blood in the quicks of his nails, and somehow this comforted him.

x

The other prisoners had grown bolder. Two days later he felt a stranger grind up against him in the food line, calling him "sweetheart," and he didn't mind if Big Abenaki cut ahead, did he? Big Abenaki wasn't so big, it turned out. Viral dropped him with an elbow to the throat. He did it because that's what he would have done before; it felt natural for the person he was supposed to be, though later he wondered if it was worth bothering, or if he should have just retreated deeper into himself and let the other inmates do as they liked. But Viral never made things easy for himself, and at least he was awarded a day in solitary for his bad behavior.

The isolation cells were separated from the rest of the prison. No sound or natural light came through, and Viral could feel absolutely nothing for hours at a time. There was a floor of stone for him to lay on, and four stone walls to stare at. Absolutely nothing. It was so empty he would have liked to stay there forever. The only downside of the visit was when he discovered the blood beneath his claws had finally disappeared. He checked and rechecked every detail of his hand, but after a week's worth of rushed, shoddy bathing, the last traces had washed away. There was nothing left, and he was surprised to find himself frowning. Perhaps he imagined everything. He couldn't remember...

x

Viral was returned to normal duty the next day. He was back in the linen closet stacking fresh, folded bedding – and imagining what crimes might send him back to isolation – when he heard muffled footfalls in the hallway. It sounded like someone attempting to approach carefully but not quite pulling it off.

He put down his armload of sheets and slouched into a defensive stance. This time he would do what was necessary. The punishment would be much worse than solitary, but he was never getting out anyway. The moon was falling.

The stranger hesitated by the door. Viral swallowed his heartbeat and willed himself not to freeze up, not again. The threshold darkened, his pupils contracted to slivers, and Viral had to drop his focus two feet to find the intruder's crooked smile. "Simon!" he spluttered. "_Dammit_, Simon!" Lowering his claws he managed to look more furious than when he was prepared for murder.

Simon ducked his head apologetically. "Oh, you- you thought I was someone else. I didn't mean to startle you, Viral."

"Then get out." The beastman turned his back and threw around more laundry.

"Actually, I was hoping to find you here. I looked earlier, but after the thing in the mess hall ..." Simon shrugged and tried to fold an already folded sheet. Try to get the Gurren Dan to do anything _practical_. Viral willed him go go away, but Simon continued blithely, "You've been so secretive since – well."

The beastman's hackles rose. "Mind your own damned business."

"I thought we were friends." Viral heard Simon's words echoed in another voice. _("We're all friends here_.")

"Then you're delusional. We aren't anything but cell neighbors," he snapped. "And I'm busy, so why are you still bothering me?"

"After what happened, I thought maybe we should talk, you know?" _("I was thinking we needed to talk ...")_

"You thought!" Viral spat. "You weren't thinking, you idiot!" He rounded on the young man. Something clicked in his head, and for the first time in two weeks every sensation was vivid. He _felt._ He felt blinding, white-hot anger, and he welcomed it. "Since when did you ever think about anything? What could you possibly have to tell me? _You!_" He grabbed Simon by the shoulders and shook until the boy's teeth rattled and his blue-black hair flew. There was something satisfying about the look of surprise on that familiar, hated face.

"Just another weak, pathetic fool who thought he could make a difference and lost everything! It's all gone: everything you've done, friends, allies, respect, and for what? You're a loser, Simon. Weak and worthless!" He'd said too much already, but Viral couldn't stop himself. The rush was nauseating. His forehead burned while sweat like ice beaded on his scalp and neck. "And you come here alone, unprotected? I could do anything– right now, right here in this room – and you couldn't stop me. You can't even see it. You're disgusting and it's the least you deserve."

Viral gave the human another hard shake, and for a split-second he seemed to meet resistance. His rage butted against an immovable force (_green light flashed behind his eyelids_), then the sensation was gone and Simon was again a rag doll in his hands. Viral was panting, teeth-bared and wild. "The only thing you have to look forward to is a death sentence, then at least then you won't have to live in shame of your failure! Are you too _stupid_ to give up?"

Simon raised his head. "... I guess we are," he said gently, "but I don't think that's any reason to be ashamed." The beastman stared, but Simon's returned gaze was calm and terrifying and far too close, so when he reached out to lay his hands on Viral he just–

"No!" Viral shoved away the only man whose opinion he still valued. His eyes burned with embarrassment; it made him so angry and he couldn't understand. He hadn't wept even when they were on top of him, but now this human was making him a fool.

Then Simon pushed back. There wasn't much force behind it, but surprise kept the blond stumbling until his hips struck a row of shelves. Shock twisted to a snarl, and he launched himself at the other man. This time Simon held on to him, and they grappled clumsily in the cramped space. Viral gripped Simon's shoulders, but his arms were wrapped tight around the beastman's ribs and Viral couldn't pry him off. "Let me go, goddamn you!" The restraint was beginning to feel uncomfortably like an embrace.

"You're a good guy, Viral," Simon gasped. "And you're not weak."

"I said let go!" Typical human nonsense. If he wasn't weak, why had he lost? If he was good, why did he feel like shit? But his voice was breaking and he couldn't ask any of those things.

"No, you have to listen to _me_ now." Simon wrestled him to a stand-still, but the fight had already left the beatman. "I know you never want help, not for anything, and it's not fair. You helped me when I first got here." Viral started to argue that he had only been breaking up a one-sided beating, that was all, but Simon stopped him with a raised hand. "You put on a rough act, but you stand up for a lot of people, strangers and enemies both. Do you think I didn't notice?"

The beastman snorted and turned his head away. This was all irrelevant. "And you don't do it because somebody asked," Simon continued, "and even when doing the right thing meant being punished, you never stopped trying, Viral. A weak person couldn't do that, and a bad person wouldn't. So ... please don't think those things. I'm proud to know a guy like you." Viral stared at the floor. This was stupid, and he didn't ... this was totally... He held his breath as they clutched each other, grateful for the curtain of ragged hair that hid him from Simon. "It's okay. I'll never forget that, and I – I'll always respect you, you know? No matter what." Simon gave his arms a reassuring squeeze. "Let me help, too."

Viral could feel dark eyes weighing on him, but he didn't know how to respond. What could he say? It was hard enough to deal with the distracting crumpling and uncrumpling in his chest without having to piece words together. The boy let him sway there as long as he needed. It was several long moments before Viral felt steady enough to do anything but breathe. When he finally sneaked a glance at Simon's face, the second thing he noticed – after the shy smile – were scarlet rosettes across the top of the human's uniform. The stains came from his tense, shaking fingers and the talons he'd buried in Simon's shoulders.

Viral released his grip in horror, but it was too late to take it back. His claws were bloodied again, and this time the cuts didn't heal. He cowered away from the wounds he'd inflicted, "I'm sorry, so sorry ..." He was damaged.

"Look, it's not deep." Simon stopped his retreat, "Don't worry," and he placed a kiss, quick and unplanned, on the corner of Viral's mouth. Like a brother, or so the beastman imagined. He wondered if this was how family would feel; he allowed himself to be stilled. Simon made soothing, coaxing sounds, and Viral didn't struggle when hands curled around his sides to rest lightly against his back, or when his old enemy and only friend leaned forward.

A safe body pressed its warmth into Viral. He didn't want to be away any more, and the curse that filled his throat died with a wet choke. He let Simon hold him among the soft towers of laundry. It smelled like detergent and salt.

xxxxxx


End file.
